


Did Someone Say - SNOWBALL FIGHT?

by DebbieF



Category: The Musketeers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 07:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5530640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbieF/pseuds/DebbieF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've been so busy with other Xmas drabbles for Stargate SG-1 and regular posts here for the Muskys that this is the first time I thought up a Xmas ficlet. Plus am dealing with a holiday cold. Thank you so much, Santa! LOL! This is really off the cuff and very last minute.</p><p>++++</p>
            </blockquote>





	Did Someone Say - SNOWBALL FIGHT?

_Musketeer Garrison_

"You know," Aramis huffed, wiping off the dripping snow from his face for the fourth time, "all I asked d'Artagnan to do was go fetch me a pail of water." He heard Athos and Porthos snickering behind him. "How did it end up like this?"

"Whelp's payin' ya back for yesterday, Mis," Porthos chuckled.

Sending his brother a disgruntled look, Aramis sighed, shook more snow off his doubtlet and tried to make enough snowballs to retaliate, which didn't look very likely at the rapid pace the boy was throwing his own at Aramis.

Hearing a thunderous roar of - _D'ARTAGNAN!_ rent the air, everyone froze at the sound.

"I think our pup's about to be reprimanded," Athos drawled, refusing to be dragged into d'Artagnan's snowball fight with the handsome sharpshooter.

Observing from a distance their youngest conversing with a very wet in the face Treville, they were all taken aback at the sly look that came over their captain just then. Next thing the inseparables knew was that they were all three under attack. With two against three, they found themselves being pelted left and right with icy snowballs.

"Eh," Porthos grunted, "how did we get involved in this?" he glared over at Athos who in return stabbed Aramis with his best glower.

"We'll blame it all on Aramis for causing d'Artagnan distress yesterday," Athos muttered as he threw a snowball at the youngster and missed. "Odd," he mused, "my aim's usually better than that."

"Ya just don't want ta hurt the whelp," Porthos growled. "Me on the other hand," he held a huge snowball in his hand, "ain't gonna let that bother me none." Throwing it with complete accuracy at d'Artagnan's slim form, Porthos winced as the boy ducked and his snowball hit Treville square in the chest.

"Ooooh," Aramis chortled, "that one's going to get you night duty at the palace."

"Shut up, Mis!" Porthos yelled. "This is all your fault anyway!"

"How does one figure that?" Aramis rolled his eyes.

"If ya hadn't had the lad take over your guard duty yesterday, after the kid already pulled his," Porthos eyed his brother with a cool look, "we might not be facin' this calamity."

"And the other thing," Athos fired off another round of snowballs at d'Artagnan and kept missing. "The lad's quicker on his feet than I gave him credit for."

"What _other thing_ ," Aramis prodded, knowing he wasn't going to like what was coming.

"You weren't sick as you claimed and d'Artagnan found out," Athos said smugly.

"Mon Dieu!" Aramis was shocked. "I didn't know that."

"Hence, this fine game we're playin'." Porthos shouted as Treville's volley of snowballs got Porthos in some pretty strategic places.

"Gentlemen," Athos stood up, pulled his white scarf from around his neck and waved it in the air, "I suggest we cease and desist for the better good of our uniforms and our bodies," he announced wryly. "I don't know about you two but I need to change clothes and warm myself up in front of the hearth."

"I hate admittin' defeat," Porthos grunted but followed Athos' example. Glaring over at Aramis, he wasn't satisfied until the other man agreed as well.

Accepting their white flag (or white scarf in this case) of truce, Captain Treville and a jovial d'Artagnan joined them.

Seeing d'Artagnan giving him a cheeky grin, Aramis could only go over and wrap his younger brother in his arms. "I apologize for yesterday, mon ami."

Gently wiping off the remaining snow from Aramis' face, d'Artagnan smiled sweetly. "Accepted," he beamed brightly. Patting Aramis on the arm he steered the older Musketeer to face the captain.

"It has come to my attention that I will need an extra Musketeer on hand for the king's party tonight," Treville grinned, "and you're just the man I need, Aramis. Report to me later this afternoon and I'll go over the details with you."

"But... but," Aramis sputtered, not managing to get the words out. He had plans made. The captain couldn't do this to him.

"My thanks, Captain, for helping me," d'Artagnan offered.

"No thanks needed, son," Treville laughed. "I enjoyed it. Haven't done that in ages."

As they watched Treville walk away, d'Artagnan, Porthos and Athos all turned to look at Aramis' dismal expression.

"Oh it slipped my mind to tell you," Athos' blue eyes twinkled, "but Treville heard about d'Artagnan taking over your duties yesterday as well." Then whispering in Aramis' ear he added, "he also came to know the real reason you dumped it on our Gascon."

"Collette has a lot to answer for," Aramis muttered, then gave an almighty yelp as three snowballs pelted him. Wiping off the icy snow, he shouted out, "I will say extra prayers for your souls at mass tomorrow!"

"Aramis is a sore loser it would seem," Athos chuckled, placing an arm around d'Artagnan's shoulders which were now shaking with laughter.

"Mis better get used ta it if he thinks he can pull stunts like he did yesterday," Porthos ruffled d'Artagnan's hair.

As Athos and Porthos went to change clothing and d'Artagnan headed for the stables, Aramis stomped away to his own apartments. Later he'd find amusement in today's battle. Much later that is.

The End


End file.
